


Where Kingdoms Rise and Fall

by Suzariah



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Medieval, F/M, Fantasy, Fantasy AU, Hurt/Comfort, King!Dean, Knight!Dean, Knight!Sam, M/M, Minor Character Death, Romance, Shapeshifter!Castiel, Shapeshifting, Violence, basically a supernaturalxfire emblem au tbh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-16
Updated: 2015-08-10
Packaged: 2018-04-04 16:25:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4144581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suzariah/pseuds/Suzariah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>King Dean Winchester is the new ruler of the great Winchester Kingdom, a once vast land filled with hope for the future. Now it is a tortured kingdom filled with injustice and fear for the inevitable war that will decide the fate of the Earth. Dean cannot rule the Kingdom alone, but maybe with his best friend Castiel and brother Sam at his side he just might turn the tide and save the human race.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Spur of the moment decided to write a little fantasy au, that is slowly looking more and more of a crossover between fire emblem and supernatural. I'll update as chapters are written. Will attempt to make it less than 6 chapters. Hope you like it! 
> 
> Side note: I enjoyed reading the information that wikipedia had on some various mythical creatures, which kind of spawned the inspiration to write this fact and make Castiel a Nagual.
> 
> (This chapter currently has minimal editing cause it is currently 5am oops)

Castiel watches from afar as a crown is placed on Dean’s head. It is a strange sight, Dean is a humble man. His manner of speaking may be free and confident, but he is far from typical self-important royalty. There’s not a more deserving man than Dean for the crown, but he can tell from the look on Dean’s face that he has no desire for the role of king.

Chief advisor Singer drops the word responsibility and Castiel watches the way Dean’s face grows from discomfort to outright fear. He wishes he could comfort Dean, but he is assigned to the sidelines aside Sam as they watch this ‘honor’ be placed on his brother. 

Royalty, in his experience, only think of the power and wealth that comes with the role of king. For Dean, all he thinks of is the lives in his hands, and Castiel knows he will blame himself for any lives lost in the coming war, no matter how far from fault he is.

It’s tragic really, that the weight of one’s ancestors transfer to the new king. Dean is carrying an astoundingly heavy burden. The kingdoms to the West during Samuel Winchester’s reign had been in turmoil with demons from Hell. It was only the beginning of what would eventually become an attempt to start the apocalypse and the Western Nations eventually became overwhelmed. Samuel had refused to send assisting forces to help with the demons, he would eventually refuse to allow Western citizens to come through the Kingdom of Winchester to reach safety. He sent out soldiers to kill any trespassers as well as any of those who assisted in their passage to the East. He stated that he feared demons infiltrating Winchester Kingdom. The decisions of Samuel have left the kingdom with a nasty reputation and now a demon infestation with no assistance from neighboring kingdoms. Dean is facing a nearly impossible fight to win, but if there was anyone who could do it, it would be him.

The only reason the kingdom is still standing is because of Dean’s work. His father set the stones in place, Dean and Sam took the reins and have been slaying demons since their teenage years. It is why Castiel is standing here now, if not for the heroic nature of Sam and Dean, Castiel would be dead.

He sighs, Singer completes his speech, Sam leans close to complain in his ear that they now have to suffer through a whole other round of ceremonies and wishes Castiel good luck on the upcoming ‘speech’ he has to make. He must honor the king of course. Dean always rolls his eyes at the mention of honor and nearly all concepts of respect. Dean had even offered to get him out of it, but Castiel refused. To some degree, he wishes to do this. He wants to honor Dean, perhaps explain why he has so much respect for him. Explain to the world why there is no better man to be king. He has no idea what he will say yet, but he’ll think of something. Public speaking used part of the job when he lived with his clan.

 Much of the kingdom already knows of Dean’s heroic acts, how much he cares for the people. There are still some who Dean has not saved though, and he may never be able to now that he has many jobs to do as king, jobs that don’t make time for week long trips on horseback to various villages in need.

“Cas?”

He looks up, Sam has his head poked around a pillar. Seeing Sam in royal apparel seems just as unnatural as seeing Dean with a crown atop his head. He has to momentarily remind himself where he is, what he’s doing, what his job is.

“Yes?”

Sam shifts fully into view, a long blue cape dragging across the floor behind him. He’s wearing jewels too, a myriad of bright gems in every color. It reminds him of the thieves they used to take down together, how they hungered for gems such as the ones that decorate Sam’s expensive garb.

“You ready for dinner? Know what you are going to say?” Sam asks.

“Not yet, do you?”

Sam has to make the toast, it’ll should be amusing to see Sam talk his brother up when Castiel is so used to them bickering and faux insulting each other.

Sam laughs nervously, “I think so. I’ll try not to embarrass him too much. Will you be speaking before me?”

“Most likely, I believe my part is mostly for entertainment purposes. I am still confused as to why the advisors asked me to do this. Compared to many of the other individuals here, I have not known Dean very long.” Castiel says, hoping he doesn’t sound uncomfortable.

Sam places a hand on his shoulder, a familiar gesture, a signal to relay trust between them.

“Honestly, Cas, Dean…has never had very many friends. They’ve all died in the war or only pretended for the potential political benefits. The people out there, very few of them mean anything. Sure, Bobby’s basically our father. Jody, Charlie, Kevin, they matter, but none of them know Dean like you do. He is my brother, but you are his best friend. If anyone should do this, it’s you.”

A pleased feeling swells in Castiel’s chest. Since their meeting, Castiel has always thought of Dean as his best friend. It is reassuring to hear Sam say the sentiment is shared. “Thank you, Sam. I do not deserve friends such as you and your brother. I am grateful to have met you both. ”

Sam laughs and throws an arm around Castiel. “I think you got it the other way around, man. Showtime. Time to make Dean look good.”

Castiel chuckles with him and walks with Sam to the great hall. Usually the decor is pretty bland, simple reds and yellows, colors of the kingdom. Today it is a sight. Every table is decorated with flowers of all kinds. The plates and chalices are all gold and silver. Long drapes branded with the Winchester crest decorate the walls, fancy candles are lit, and most importantly Dean sits at the high throne, a hesitant look on his face as his eyes scan his surroundings. Roughly sixty people fill the hall at the moment, but somehow Dean’s eyes find his and he smiles reassuringly.

Sam notices, takes his cue. “Good luck. Your seats beside mine when you’re done, by the way.”  Sam tells him and that’s it, his time to speak.

Castiel walks up to the stage slowly. What will he talk about? How will he give Dean the words he deserves? If they were in private, maybe he would be able to convey how important he is. But this is for the people of the kingdom more than it is for Dean, the people need to know that he is a fit leader and a honorable man.

Castiel isn’t entirely sure Dean is the righteous man the kingdom is searching for. The new king is a lot of things stubborn, courageous, reckless, but he is not virtuous and he is not dignified, Castiel wouldn’t have him any other way. Dean, underneath his thick skin is gentler than most would think, far from the merciless killer that the military wants him to be. He fears the responsibility that comes with being king, he fears that he will be forced to put Sam in danger, he fears that he will send soldiers out to die.

He can say none of this, it would dishonor the king, but he’d like to convey somehow that Dean is worthy of all the admiration given to him, not because he is an honorable king, but because he is a good man, a caring man who has spent his life fighting so others don’t have to.

Suddenly, the story he must tell seems clear. He’ll go back to the beginning.

…

The Nagual are going extinct, Samandriel tells him one day. Castiel knows this, he is the one comforting the bereaved when they receive bad news. He is a priest who has made far too many blessings for the dead in the past several months.

“Why do they want us to die?” Samandriel asks him. It is his fourteenth year, so very young. Castiel wishes he did not have to explain.

He does though, because that is his purpose here, to heal, to comfort, and most importantly to speak the truth.

“The humans are afraid that we have demons in our blood. The demons are unnatural beings, not native to this Earth. They can use magic, just as we can. After seeing the demons use it humans view our abilities as unnatural as well, that being able to use magic and shapeshift is inherently sinful.”

“But why would that be wrong? Our magic comes from the Earth? It’s natural, right?”

Castiel places his hand on Samandreil’s head. “It is, but the humans do not believe us.”

Samdriel’s eyes well up with tears, “But why don’t they?”

A child should never have to worry about this. Castiel closes his eyes. “Because we have killed their kind before, just as they have killed ours. Peace is hard to attain once people have lost their kin, my brother.”

“But you’ll keep us safe, right? Do you think that you could convince people that we’re good too?”

Children always carry so much hope for the future. Castiel will not shatter it by saying the truth, instead he will tell him another truth, one that he plans to take on fulfilling. “I will try my best.”

Samandriel finishes his duties and leaves the church shortly after. Life continues.

Castiel thinks of his little brothers words. Samandriel will inevitably be faced with the harsh truths in the world or alternatively end up being disappointed. Castiel has few options regardless. If the humans fight, he will fight. If they want to talk, he is open to conversation, convincing them of the Nagual’s innocence. Humans greatly outnumber Nagual, he can hardly declare war on them for his fallen brethren. It would be a few dozen versus hundreds, he will not put his clan through that. Regardless, he does not intend to lose it to humans or demons. Castiel is a decent negotiator and a more than capable warrior, as are all priests of the Nagual. He is a master of healing just as he is a master of combat, if he must take on hundreds for their safety, he will.

Castiel trains between worship and blessings. There is not much else he can do. His chieftain, Gabriel, comes by frequently to ensure they are in the best shape for combat. Gabriel also teaches him some of the clan’s politics and rituals, if Gabriel were to fall, Castiel would take the leading role as chief.

 The day humans finally find them, Castiel doesn’t manage to get one word in.

It’s one small boy who finds them, he hovers on the outskirts of their camp and eventually wanders in warily. The council convenes briefly to decide what to do. There was only one choice to capture or kill him. If they had killed him, maybe the outcome would have been different. In the end the boy runs when he notices that Inias has a small knife attached to his belt. They let him go. Castiel has run through every scenario; capturing him, letting him go, returning him to his home, none of this would’ve ended well. The outcome is always the same.

The boy eventually made it back to his camp, and told his father of the beings in strange clothing and their magical arsenal.

They couldn’t get away in time. Thirty-eight stormed their camp on horseback. No one was prepared since the plan had always been to run, never to fight. They had misjudged the distance and the efficiency of how humans prepare for combat.

It ended bloody. Thirty-four of the humans had been killed by the end of it and Castiel was the last one standing of his clan.

He still thinks maybe a few of them got away, he never saw Samandriel’s body. He clings to the hope that he is not the last of his family.

“You think this one knows anything?”

“He’s gotta be one of their leaders, look at his clothes. Different than the others, not to mention he was one tough son of a bitch.”

The man who captures him, his name is Gordon, he is the leader of a small group of mercenaries working for one of the more religious guilds of the region. His main job is taking out magical beings of any kind, including Nagual of course. In his free time he raids the smaller villages looking for coin.

His captors set up camp less than a mile from where the massacre took place. The stench of blood and death makes Castiel gag. At the time he was convinced that they kept so close just to torture him as much as possible.

Gordon kept him tied and bound for days, torturing him for information on the demons when he felt up to it. He did not know the answers to Gordon’s questions, but he never told him that. He remained silent through every punch and slice of his sword.

Days pass, Gordon and his group eventually start to slowly drift away from Castiel’s destroyed home. They question him every day, convinced he will break, but they do not know the kind of training Castiel has gone through to endure this exact scenario. The only thing they do is increase Castiel’s bloodlust, and each moment he spends alone in the dark only magnifies his thirst for revenge.

One night, Castiel breaks free. It’s easy then, he retrieves his staff and his amulet and tears them apart piece by piece. They get a few lucky wounds on him, but he still manages to destroy them while saving Gordon for last.

With what is left of his energy he drags Gordon to his camp, forces the man to look at the lives he ended.

“All these lives you ended, my family, what was their crime?!” His voice is furious and hoarse, sad.

Gordon doesn’t try to reply, Castiel cuts off his head.

Castiel returns to his old quarters and waits to die from the massive blood loss he had suffered from the passing days.

It is then, when Castiel is bleeding out and his opinion of humans or himself could not get any lower does he meet Prince Dean Winchester.

Dean and Sam who had apparently been passing by and saw the destruction, started to investigate.

No more than an hour or so later does Castiel hear footsteps outside his tent.

“Hello? Anyone alive?”

“Holy shit Dean, this is just…awful. I knew the Nagual had become a target of religious criticism, but this? This is genocide.” Sam comments, like it disgusts him. At that time Castiel was highly doubtful of the younger Winchester’s words.

“I don’t know much about them Sam, what if they are what the church says? Dad says we should trust the church. Maybe they are just like the demons.”

That statement spurs Castiel’s near lifeless body into action. He drags himself up onto his weak human legs and angrily limps out of his tent.

“Dean….you can’t honestly believe….” Sam starts, but then stops short when he sees Castiel coming towards them. “Dean!”

Dean turns his head, taking in Castiel for the first time. Castiel stops a few feet from them, putting as much rage into his stare as he can before he speaks.

“My…people…are not…demons.” Castiel says with as much power as he can muster before collapsing.

When he wakes, it’s to Dean and Sam treating his wounds, to Castiel’s immense surprise.

“Hey there,” Dean says cheerfully. “Finally coming to, you’ve been out for awhile, had some pretty serious wounds. Something tells me all the dead mercs out there are your doing?”

Castiel confirms with a nod. “They killed my family.”

Dean shakes his head, “Hey I’m not blaming you, hell if something happened to Sammy I’d…” Dean blinks, redirects the subject. “Anyway, those mercs have been causing trouble around here for awhile now, glad they’re gone. Didn’t realize they were murderers though, Jesus, this place is just...Sorry.”

Castiel swallows the lump in his throat, and nods. “Sammy…is the other knight?” Castiel asks hesitantly.

Dean laughs, “Yeah, but don’t call him Sammy. He goes by Sam, and he’s not a knight yet, according to my dad he’s still in training but Sammy is a far better warrior already than my Dad’s ever been. Not sure why he hasn’t just given him the title already.”

“Talkin about me Dean?” Sam’s voice filters in through the tent. He enters a moment later, a unsure expression on his face.

“Oh you’re awake! Uh…Hi.” Sam begins awkwardly. “I just wanted to say I am sorry for whatever went down here and I uh…have started gathering the dead…uh…how do you…how does your culture-”

“We burn our dead.” Castiel answers immediately, fighting the weight in his chest. “If…that is what you’re doing may I ask that you wait until I am able to give them my blessing?”

 Sam nods. “Of course.”

Sam moves to leave, but he pauses for a moment and turns, “Since Dean spilled my name, May I ask yours?”

“Hey asshole I was gonna ask that!” Dean shouts throwing a random cloth at Sam. “I need conversation fodder here!”

“ _You_ need conversation fodder? Dean you make friends and pick up strangers at nearly every bar we’ve ever visited. I’m sure you can come up with something interesting to talk about.”

“Sure, yeah, but I’ve never had to talk with them for more than a few hours.”

“Jeez Dean you’re such a-“

“My name is Castiel.”

They both immediately quiet. “Castiel?” They repeat in unison.

“Yes.”

Dean leans back onto his hands. “Never heard that one before, pretty badass though.”

Castiel finds himself nearing a smile, “Yes, I like to think so too.”


	2. The King is a Badass

Castiel tries not to go too in depth with his retelling, but he can see the seriousness of his speech so far has caused the room to go quiet. He sees that the council at the front tables have abandoned their drinks and are now listening intently. Sam sits at the farthest table, the closest one to the throne, with a pensive look on his face. Sam feels very strongly about the rights of the Nagual, which Castiel is incredibly grateful for, the world needs more compassionate humans like Sam.

Dean himself is sitting on the throne looking Castiel dead in the eye, like he’s seeing what Castiel sees as he tells his story. He’s heard this all before. Castiel has only told this story one other time and that was only to Dean, now he tells a whole room about his pain, his bloodlust…its freeing in a way to finally be able to tell his story without wavering.

“After my wounds were healed and I honored my family’s deaths properly, the Winchesters made a generous offer asking me to join them on the road. I accepted, with the rule that I help them in their mission to save this kingdom…”

…

“Are you certain you want me to accompany you?”  Castiel asks, adjusting himself from where he sits on the back of Dean’s horse. It’s an awkward affair. He tries to sit sideways as often as he can, but it’s more difficult to stay on that way and Dean rides fast. But the feeling of having his genitalia pressed up against Dean’s backside is even more uncomfortable.

“Yes Cas. Don’t worry, we’ll get you a horse in the next village. Baby can take a little extra weight for now.”  Dean says, tapping the side of his horse’s neck. Dean’s horse is a strong creature, all muscle and black as the night.

“You know that’s not necessary as soon as my other leg heals I can keep up on my own.”

His other form is twice as fast as a horse. If he changed forms he would have the luxury of avoiding this awkward physical closeness as well as the conversation that he’s not entirely certain he can keep up with. It’s hard to focus when his mind seems intent on reminding him of the past few days.

“Yeah yeah, I get that, but Cas we can’t have some giant dog creature or whatever you turn into following us around in the open. Not everywhere we go is gonna have safe spots for you to follow. Plus it would be better if you stayed near, we can communicate better that way.” Castiel has a counter for each point, but he remains silent anyway. He does not want to argue with his new friend and if that’s how Dean would prefer it, that’s fine by him.

Sam eyes them both strangely from where he sits on his horse.  “We need to move a little faster guys if we are to get there before nightfall.”

“Right.” Dean tugs at the reins, “C’mon Baby let’s get movin!”

‘Baby’ kicks it into high gear, forcing Castiel to adjust his position, wrapping his hands around Dean’s waist to remain stable. 

“Why do you call your horse Baby?” Castiel questions, his voice muffled by Dean’s shoulder and the sound of hooves pounding against the dirt.

Dean smirks, “Because that’s her name. She’s my Baby.”

“I do not believe you are the father of a horse, Dean.” Castiel quips. “What inspired you to call her by that name?”

Dean smiles at Castiel’s attempt to joke. “What inspired me? Well, Baby here is the only thing that’s ever been really mine. No one can take her from me and she answers to no one else, except maybe Sam sometimes. She’s my baby cause’ I raised her myself.  I trained her, been her sole provider since she was born. She’s one of the only things that I keep to keep for myself.”

His words puzzle Castiel. He cannot think of why Dean would think a horse as one of the only things he gets to keep for himself, as far as Castiel is aware this kingdom does not limit the rights of its citizens as many others do, its citizens are free to choose their profession and keep what possessions they attain.

“Why is she one of the only things you can keep to yourself? Is your freedom in this kingdom limited?”

The brothers look at each other peculiarly at that comment. “Not exactly, Cas.”

“Not exactly?”

Dean’s lips press into a firm line. His eyes are trained forward, it is a secret then.

“If you do not wish to tell me that is fine. We have not known each other long.” Castiel offers. He can quell his curiosity for the time being.

…

Thinking back, Castiel is glad the Winchesters did not tell him of their identities. Castiel would have left immediately; he would not have wanted the other Nagual to ever see him with human royalty. They would have most likely thought he betrayed his own kind, somehow traded information for his own protection. That is what Castiel would’ve thought back then. However, since Castiel joined the Winchesters relations to Nagual and humans have thankfully improved. He has Dean to thank for that too, with Dean’s influence he has managed to improve human perception of magical beings, especially Nagual.

“We travelled to the next village and stayed the night, I had the opportunity to see our King’s interactions with the citizens. At the time I had no idea of our King’s origins, I thought he was simply another knight, a generous one at that, allowing someone like me to accompany him on his journey.” Castiel pauses, scanning his audience. Some of the knights and politicians seem disinterested, but just by looking at this audience he can tell who really cares about Dean. Charlie, Kevin, Bobby, Jody all share the same expression of interest and excitement. These are the only people in the room that truly matter to Dean, he hopes he can make a good impression on them in particular.

He finally settles his gaze on Dean and Sam in the back, both of them know these stories. When they catch his eyes Sam gives him a thumbs-up and Dean winks with a smile. Castiel almost laughs, but manages to control himself.

“The citizens knew more than I did, their eyes followed the Winchesters every motion. I got the privilege of watching first-hand as King Dean Winchester single handedly turned a group of innocent civilians into a militaristic force to be reckoned with.”

…

The owner of the tavern is a nervous man, he looks at Dean with fearful eyes when he orders a cup of ale and loaf of bread.

“Thanks man,” Dean says cheerfully when the guy returns with his order.

“Y-yes sir.” The owner bows and walks away at a rapid pace.

Castiel’s feels perplexed. “Strange that the owner of a tavern would be so…skittish.”

Dean laughs loudly and slaps a hand onto Castiel’s shoulder. “I think it’s just me Cas, I have that effect on people.”

“You don’t seem that intimidating, no offense.”

“That’s because you’re a badass Cas.” Dean smirks, his eyes are alight with amusement. Castiel likes that expression on Dean, it fits him well.

“How would you know? You’ve never seen me fight.” If he had, maybe Dean would not have brought him along. Castiel is trained in all things. Magic in particular, if Dean knew the depth of his ability perhaps he would turn on Castiel like other humans.

“Oh but I will, very soon in fact.” He says in a joking tone. Dean sobers a bit and looks to Sam. “How much time do we have?”

Sam looks up from his drink. “A few hours at most.”

“Hmmm. We’d better start preparing then.”  Dean stands abruptly, the sound of his chair sliding back irritates his ears.

“Listen up!” Dean shouts. He moves to stand on his chair.

The people of the tavern all turn to face him. There are not many of them, but enough to leave Castiel a little surprised that Dean gathered their attention so easily. He perhaps underestimated Dean’s aptitude for leadership.

Castiel is suddenly reminded of Gabriel, his leadership had been casual, yet firm. He was friendly with all those at his command, but when the time came to rule his voice was powerful. He would speak in a booming voice that would give chills to anyone close enough to hear it.

Dean has the exact same tone.

“We got a problem, you all know about the increase in raids lately?” The people nod warily.

“Well, we got good info that a small army worth of mercenaries are on their way here now. Their goal is to take over your homes and your resources. I don’t want that to happen, so you all are gonna meet me in the main square in one hour with whatever weapons you have. We’ll come up with a plan from there. Got it?”

The people are entirely silent for what must’ve been minutes. The first protestor is massive man, twice as thick as Sam and just as tall.  

“Why should we trust you?” The man says in a deep growl.

“I don’t know, because I have a nice ass?”

Sam covers his face with his hands. Castiel feels his lips twitch in amusement.

“Why would I give you false information about this? I have nothing to gain from lying to you.”  Dean says on a more serious note. The giant huffs, it sounds like an agreement.

“No harm done if you’re wrong I guess. C’mon boys.” The man gestures to his friends. A few tenants of the tavern slowly leave their rooms, muttering amongst them as they discuss whether to join them or not.

“That was easy.” Dean says a moment later. “This usually takes a lot more effort, Sam’s far better at these rallying speeches than I am. I can never come up with anything.”

“It was fine.” His leadership methods are clearly on par with Gabriel’s. Command accompanied by an ill-timed joke.  “It worked.” 

Dean beams. “Hey Sam, Cas liked my speech.”

“That was hardly a speech, you didn’t do anything except tell them they were in trouble. And you said you had a nice ass, do you know what dad would say?”

“Well I wasn’t lying. Dad would’ve probably said something far more boring.”

Sam laughs in a mix of distress and amusement. “Let’s go meet everyone, we gotta turn these people into a working army within the next hour.”

They head outside a moment later. There are a few gathered already in the town square. Some of them have swords and bows, but the majority has pitchforks and other various farming equipment. It makes Castiel nervous, their enemies are likely well-trained, these people clearly know little of war.

A couple more join the bunch and Sam briefly explains to them the situation. The new recruits are young and quite clearly confused. He wishes he could be more like Sam and Dean in this way. He’s good at telling people how to deal with their inner struggles, but this, telling people how to fight has never been his forte.

A young woman joins the group holding nothing but a dull rake and Castiel feels nauseous. None of these people know how to fight there’s no way—

 “We need to send a scout to monitor the roads! These people probably won’t bother for a sneak attack, but we still need to keep an eye out. Any volunteers?”  Dean’s permeates his brain, interrupting Castiel’s train of thought.  He doesn’t seem to share Castiel’s concerns, his face is fierce, and for whatever reason Dean seems pleased.

“I can.” Castiel says on reflex. He takes mental stock of his injured leg, its injured still, but hardly critical condition; he’d be able to run just fine.

Dean smiles with a peculiar look in his eye, “Okay Castiel.”  Dean approaches him, sidles up close to lean in and whisper in Castiel’s ear. “How fast are you really? Can you stay hidden?”

Castiel smiles confidently. “In my other form I can run twice the speed of a horse and I have camouflage abilities, it will be an easy task.”

Dean’s eyebrows rise, “Can you really?”

“Yes.”

“Alright then, find them. Come back here immediately.”

Castiel nods. “Yes sir.”

He breaks into a jog down the center of town, feeling invigorated at being given a mission to do. The second he’s passes the boundaries lining the village he heads for the tree line, retrieving his magical gems from his robe as he runs. They will make his transformation far less draining.

The smell of pine assaults his nose. The thumping of his feet hitting the ground turns to crunches of leaves and pinecone.  A moment later he feels the hum of magical energy through his bones. He lets his body shift.

Now on four legs he breaks into a much faster sprint, his legs pumping with ease, the pain leftover from before is nothing but a slight tickle now. This body is stronger, faster. Its senses are sharper and he is practically undetectable by the enemy.

His mind sings with magical energy. It’s been so long, he didn’t realize how much he missed it. The feeling is calming despite the assault of sensations that come with this form. For many taking on the Nagual form can be overwhelming and some of his kind choose to master other types of magic.

Sometimes Castiel wonders if it would’ve been better for everyone to abandon shapeshifting, as it is the core reason why the humans are so distrustful of the Nagual, but then he thinks about how unique the ability is. It is a gift from nature, not a curse. It was Castiel’s job to make sure that this ability was viewed in a positive light, that the magic of the Nagual would live to see another generation.

Footsteps interrupt his train of thought. There are so many, Castiel has to focus to count them. There must be at least 40 soldiers… no no it’s closer to 50. He crouches low near the treeline to see the small army of mercenaries heading straight for the village, just as Dean said they would. The soldiers are all marked with a symbol on the side of their sleeve and each of them has their own unique weapon. When Castiel left there were 19 civilians standing around Dean, so a total of 22.

Castiel takes a deep breath; the odds are far from favorable.

He arrives back at the village in his human form a few minutes later to give Dean the news. Dean looks unsettled, but no worse for wear at their odds. Castiel is not sure whether to find Dean’s confidence frightening or reassuring.

“Looks like we got a real fight, gather round troops!” Dean announces, stepping in the center of the group.  “I’m not gonna lie to you, the odds aren’t looking so good. There’s an army of roughly 50 trained soldiers heading this way, all of them well-trained and well-armed. Now, I know most of you don’t have the skills for this, but I’m gonna still ask for your help and I will try my best to keep each and every one of you alive. I think we can do it as long as we all work together.”

The crowd dissolves into whispers and muttering. Castiel is surprised that not many of them look scared, nervous perhaps, but no one is running scared. Its…admirable, albeit confusing as to their motivations. Trusting Dean on word alone…following his orders so quickly, it doesn’t make sense.    

“If you wanna chicken out of this fight, do so now because we don’t have much time left.”  Dean even gave them an out, still no one seems to be leaving.

“Alright then. Here’s the plan.”

The plan is…ridiculous, but Castiel agrees regardless. Sam is the bait, Dean and Castiel sit poised on the roof so they can strike from above while the civilians are all hiding in the many balconies that line the street, waiting to jump and corner the enemy.

First, bait. Sam will lead as many soldiers as he can away from the center fight.

“Do you think Sam will be alright? What if he’s cornered by a large group?” Castiel asks, he’s very very worried about Sam. Castiel should’ve been the bait, he can kill a small group of them with his magic, easy.

“Sam’s fine. He’s incredibly skilled with a glaive,” Dean responds confidently. “Definitely beats me in the ring with it, but that’s only because his weapons have more range on me than my longsword.”  There’s a fond look on Dean’s face as he speaks, it’s apparent he harbors no frustration over Sam’s combat skills. Castiel would be in denial to say that he does not look forward to see Sam and Dean’s fighting style, everything he knows about them so far suggests that they must be experts at combat.

“Tell me Cas.” Dean starts, leaning back onto the roof. He then gestures to the staff on Castiel’s back. “Is that your weapon?”

“Yes, I am most skilled in magic, and this seems to be a fight where I will be needed at my best.” Castiel replies calmly. If Dean has a problem with him using magic then this camaraderie will die early. So far, Dean has made no indication that he has a problem, but with humans Castiel knows how quickly that can change.

“Nice, it’ll make this fight a lot easier.” Castiel breathes a sigh of relief.

“I will try to fight and perform healing magic where I can, I’m concerned that many of the villagers are unfamiliar with fighting, there’s bound to be casualties.”

Dean shakes his head and places his hand on Castiel’s shoulder again. “Don’t worry Castiel this one is a piece of cake. Most of the time only a few people show up to give us any help. Not one person’s gonna die, promise. Me and Sam… let’s just say we’re good at this.”

‘Good at this’ turns out to be a massive understatement.

The plan goes as well as it could go. The entire force heads down the center of town. It’s apparent how confident they are. They don’t seem to have a care in the world, they have no direct formation, their weapons are not at ready, and the soldiers goof off continuously. Sam takes out the leading soldier instantly with an arrow straight through his exposed head. Sam then leads a group of five down an alley where they are supposedly ambushed by four of their impromptu militia.

The rest is what amazes Castiel.

Dean coughs intentionally with a smirk on his face. A second later ten of the soldiers are blindly charging forward straight down the center of town, giving Dean and Castiel an easy opening to take them out. Castiel conjures fire beneath them as they pass below his feet, Dean does the rest by cutting down anyone who had the strength to get up.

And just like that, it’s almost an even match.

The civilians perfectly distract the remaining enemies by charging in from behind them. There is a clashing sound of metal on metal, he listens carefully for the sound of pierced flesh. Dean said there will be no casualties, Castiel wants to make sure that remains true.

Dean spins his sword in hand, “Ready?”

They dive into the fray, Dean’s sword immediately clashing with another. It’s not much of a duel, Dean quickly outplays him and he goes down easy. Another mercenary with a rather large beard charges at Castiel with his sword pointed forward. With a twirl of his staff the sword goes flying, disarming him. Another wave sends the guy falling in a spiral of flames.

There’s another two coming at him from both sides. Castiel lifts his staff, then stomps it hard against the ground, letting his magical energy seep into the ground. His spell comes back up as sharp rocks piercing straight through his enemies.

 Castiel can hear his heart pumping in his head. It makes him think back to his village, to the mercenaries who killed his family. His bloodlust thickens, clouds his magical energy. His flames are hotter, the magical energy sings louder in his veins. He takes down another two, three. He feels his other form growl under it all, wanting to be free, wanting to fight—

“Castiel!” Dean shouts, instantly clearing the blood haze in his mind.  Dean’s sword is swift even as he talks, swinging and blocking multiple enemies at once. Castiel moves to help him, but Dean shakes his head. “No me!” He nods his head forward. “Them!”

 Two of theirs are struggling against the onslaught of one of the larger mercenaries. The guy is massive, wearing all black clothing, a black helm covers his face. He swings his large claymore with ease. The two are defenseless against the mercenary’s strength and one of them falls leaving his defenses wide open. He swings his sword, the point heading straight for the fallen soldiers heart.

“No!” Castiel throws out his energy, extending his mind to the situation just a few yards away.  He throws the sword forward from the man’s grip and takes him off his feet, it gives enough time for the two others to escape. He breathes a sigh of relief.

His eyes scan the battle searching for any others who might need help. He can’t help it when his eyes settle on Dean, he’s fascinated by the way he moves with his sword. It’s harsh and angry, but somehow clean. An incredibly skilled performance. Informal, but a masterful display nonetheless.

When the mercenary group has been reduced to the critical point they start to flee one by one. Sam takes two of the runners down with expertly shot arrows and in the end only one gets away.

Castiel looks around for ally casualties, but the only bodies he sees are the ones in merc armor.

“Good job, Cas.” Dean says coming up behind him, a wide smile on his face. There are streaks of blood scattered along his cheek and chest plate.

“Are you hurt?”

“Fine, it’s not mine.” Dean lays his arm over Castiel shoulders. His closeness makes Castiel’s face feel hot, Dean smells like steel and blood. He leans briefly out of Castiel’s space to congratulate everyone. “Good job guys!”

The resounding cheer is so loud, Castiel gets chills. 

“Drinks are on me!” Dean tells them which gives way to another booming cheer.

“Are you sure you can afford that?”

Dean laughs, “I’m not payin, Sam’s buyin this time around.”

The townspeople threw a large celebration that lasted for over ten hours, only stopping because Sam picked up wind that demons might be heading towards the town of Whitehall. They left shortly after receiving the news, much to Dean’s irritation since Sam stopped him from scouring the town trying to find Castiel a horse.

Castiel didn’t really mind sharing a horse again, he was too busy looking ahead, imagining all the good he was going to do with Sam and Dean.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow it's been longer than I thought, sorry for the slow updates! I hope to finish this before supernatural comes back, but since I have to go back to college soon I'm not sure about the time schedule for these updates. Hope everyone's had a good summer though, and thanks for reading!

“That was only the first of our many adventures. I have had the privilege of spending a great deal of time with our new King. Not once did I ever see him back down and surrender. I have seen his leadership, his courage, and his kindness. I have no doubt that he is what this kingdom has been waiting for.”

The room is quiet, all eyes are trained intensely on him. Castiel feels his face heat, had he said too much? Perhaps raving like that would be considered embarrassing for Dean. Did he break some human rule in his speech? Perhaps the all-human audience is uncomfortable with him being a Nagual.

The silence is finally broken by Kevin. He stands and claps loudly, causing the rest of the room to follow suit. Castiel breathes a sigh of relief.  The back of his neck is sweating and he’s certain he has an unfamiliar blush marring his cheeks as he steps down from the stage.

Upon closer inspection of his audience it seems his speech was acceptable. Their faces are all encouraging, smiles and clapping all around. The only audience he hasn’t let his eyes wander to yet is the King himself.

He forces his eyes up now. Dean is staring right at him, a rare look on his face. It’s soft, fond almost. Castiel has never seen that look directed at him, it makes him feel warm. Dean has always put up so many barriers, walls that he has never been sure how to climb. He’s not entirely certain what’s brought it out now, but he aims to lessen Dean’s defenses again in the future.

“Nice Cas, you’re gonna make me look like a bad brother now,” Sam mutters when Castiel takes his place beside him. “Are you usually that big of a kiss ass?”

“I assure you, any ass kissing was unintentional. I just…said what came to my head.” If only he had planned something better, perhaps he wouldn’t have embarrassed himself so much. Neither he nor Dean has ever been comfortable expressing themselves. His face is still incredibly warm, he’s not sure he’ll be able to meet Dean’s eyes again for the rest of the night.

“I’m messing with you, you sounded great Cas.” Sam grins and pours Castiel a cup of wine. For once, Castiel is grateful to have alcohol in front of him. “If only I could sound that good, mine’s going to be incredibly informal, you sounded so eloquent up there. I mean you talk pretty proper in the first place, but you were in the zone up there Castiel.”

Castiel nods in agreement. “I used to be a priest. Telling stories used to be my job.” He had momentarily felt like a priest again while he was up there. Standing on a stage, telling stories and lessons, it made him remember. Remember the faces of his family as they sat there in his tent as he spoke, how they listened to well and so fully. It makes his heart hurt to think of them. It was so long ago now, but he remembers. He has far more social discomfort than he used to,  losing his family made him quiet and distrustful, perhaps that is why he is so much more self-aware in front of these people.

“I just hope what you said at the end there doesn’t get in Dean’s head.”

Castiel laughs at that. Dean acts like the boastful, self-centered prince once in awhile, but his true self is the complete opposite. “It might, for a day or two.  I will be sure to dampen his ego regularly.”

“Remember Cas, he’s a King now, say the wrong thing and he’ll behead you.”

“Maybe, but I think that is unlikely. I carry too many political and militaristic benefits.”

Sam laughs, “I’m not so sure about that, but he’d find some reason to keep you around no matter what you did.”

Bobby approaches and signals for Sam to begin. Sam waves a brief goodbye. Castiel mouths ‘good luck’ as he steps up to center stage.

Sam’s claim of informality is needless, Sam is as eloquent and kind as any noble is expected to be. There is a brief joke here and there, but he excellently presents Dean in a heroic light. Castiel is envious of how relaxed Sam seems in front of everyone. He immediately puts the audience at ease with his demeanor; while Castiel distanced them with tales of violence and death. Sam mentions nothing of killing, just emphasizes the little things Dean does everyday that shape who he is. How he speaks, how he’s so selfless and friendly with everyone. Dean acts like every citizen he meets is an old friend, so unlike the more elitist nobles Castiel has become acquainted with since his arrival to the castle.

Sam ends his speech by raising his glass to Dean. The audience follows suit, including Castiel. Dean raises his to his brother in thanks and – out of the corner of his eye—gives Castiel a small acknowledgment as well. The action pleases him and he can’t help, but smile into his chalice as he takes a small sip.

The rest of the night goes as well as can be expected. Everyone’s ecstatic about Dean’s crowning. The look of hope and expectation is glowing in every noble’s eyes. A new dawn begins tomorrow, the era of King Dean Winchester.

Castiel finds himself holding back a laugh, thinking of Dean’s name being praised and glorified in history books. Not that Dean is undeserving, but the man himself is not the kind of man who ends up as a King. Nonetheless, Castiel feels immense pride for his friend.  He will do well by his people, there is no doubt that he will perhaps be the greatest King this land has ever known.

…

Weeks pass quickly. Dean becomes the world’s busiest man and he does not take it well at first. Tantrums are thrown, many bottles of ale and whiskey drank, and many nights Castiel finds Dean passed out over his desk with a quill in his palm. Castiel often feels more like his handmaiden than his bodyguard, a position appointed to him by Sam.

“I trust no one to protect him more than you, Cas.” Sam had said with a hand on his shoulder. At the time Castiel was flattered by his words, but now they seem like propaganda.

The only time his job feels like that of a bodyguard is when Dean is sifting through his mail. There’s always a nasty threat or two hidden among the scrolls. Castiel investigates their legitimacy as much he can, but so far they have all been empty threats.

Despite Dean’s newness to the throne, he does fairly well considering all the intricacies of his job. Castiel expected that Dean would have little aptitude for the more petty aspects of politics, but his straightforward, no-nonsense approach has surprisingly made the councils more productive. Dean does not do under-handed deals, and he has no desire to keep secrets from the people. This mentality has, unfortunately, led him to deliver a lot of bad news since the prior king delighted in keeping secrets.  Everyone said it would make his reputation worse, but instead the people trust him more and his approval rating has only gone up, despite the seemingly constant bad news he supplies.

The only person who seems displeased with the new King is the King himself. Dean endlessly berates himself and Castiel has become the nearby ear that listens to all his ramblings.

“I’m such a fucking idiot, how could I not see that the situation was this bad. There’s thousands suffering because I trusted my father and I—“  Dean’s hands fist in his hair. Castiel does not envy his burden, the most recent news is that of the coming war. The demons are growing rapidly in number and have decimated several towns near the border between Winchester and the nation of Principality in the North.

“Dean.” Castiel places a hand on Dean’s shoulder in a gesture of comfort. The king’s presses his face harder into his hands. “You had no way of knowing, you are not responsibly for your father’s secrets. You can only be responsible for the choices you make now.”

“How can you say that? Hundreds are dead because I’m an ignorant asshat.”

Castiel wants to smile at his king’s choice of words. “Being ignorant is only a crime if you choose to be. I firmly believe you were unaware of your own ignorance; no one can fault you for that.”

Dean leans into Castiel’s touch. It spurs Castiel on, fills him with a strange satisfaction that this man trusts him so implicitly.

 “What could you have done about this had you known sooner? You had no army, you and Sam could not have stormed the army of demons alone.”

Dean chuckles at that. “If we had you, we probably could have.”

Castiel’s ego swells and he smiles wickedly. “Maybe. The three of us make quite a team, I must admit. We have yet to be defeated.”

Dean sighs heavily, pats Castiel’s hand in thanks where it rests on his shoulder. “Yet.”

That single word weighs heavy in the air between them.

The coming war has the odds greatly stacked against them, Castiel only hopes they can pull through.

That night, Dean actually goes to bed instead of sleeping over his desk. This is only the second time he’s managed to make it to his own bed. Castiel is still unsure of the etiquette yet for their sleeping arrangements. Is he supposed to guard Dean as he sleeps? Dean is far from defenseless, it’s not like Castiel needs to be attached to him 24/7. Perhaps he should bid him a goodnight, but what if someone slips through the window? Or a guard gets possessed by a demon? It could easily happen.

“Cas you plan on standin there the whole night?” Dean says as he climbs into bed. It’s a little ridiculous seeing Dean in the royal bedchamber. The bed is massive and the comforter is adorned with the royal crest. Castiel is used to seeing Dean in little cramped up tents using only his dirtied clothing as a pillow.

“I considered it,” Castiel responds honestly. “I do not know what is required of me in this position. I am your bodyguard and if you are sleeping then you are at your most vulnerable.”

“Really Cas? C’mon I’m not some defenseless lamb. Go sleep in your own room.”

“My own room is the communal knights quarter in the west tower, on the complete other side of the castle. If you were in trouble I would have no way of getting to you, Dean.”

Dean winces “Are you serious? Shit man, you should’ve said something. I’ll arrange for you to have your own room.”

“No, you don’t have to—“

“Yes I do. Being the King’s best friend should have at least some perks yeah?” Dean says and it’s so casual, like it’s obvious, but Castiel’s feels elation bloom in his chest. ‘Best friend.’ Dean has so many friends, but in Dean’s eyes he is the favorite. Castiel has never been that to anyone. And sure, they have been close since they met, but to hear the words from Dean himself…

Castiel cannot help the wide smile that spreads across his face. He tries to hold it back, but it is no use. It’s still blatantly obvious how happy Castiel is in that moment.

He’s relieved when Dean returns his giddy smile. “Yeah Cas, the perks. Just remember them for the next time I’m an asshole for some stupid reason or another. Anything you want, you got it.”

Castiel nods. He will not think of the perks as Dean says he should, instead he will think of this feeling, the feeling of being special to someone.

…

A few days later there is a meeting held. Castiel stands by the door on guard just a few feet from Dean. The King has been exasperated since this particular meeting was announced. The other nobles are concerned that he has not selected a bride and have decided to make their complaints known.  

“War is coming and soon, with all due respect a heir will reassure the people that they will have a leader.” One of them says. Castiel grits his teeth.  

For whatever reason, talk of marriage for Dean makes his blood boil. He feels the claws of his Nagual form approach the surface. It takes a tremendous amount of effort to keep them back.

“What about Sam? He’ll be here, he is of royal blood, same as me. He can always take the throne if I’m not around.” Dean responds. His relaxed posture puts Castiel a tiny bit more at ease, it seems that the King has little interest in the words of his council.

The nobles around the table all share nervous looks. Dean notices, his relaxed posture turns tense.

“Well, my King, I would expect your brother would ride into battle with you. He is a general now, after all. I hate to say it, but the odds are even less favorable for General Winchester than they are for you.”

Dean’s fist smacks the table, hard enough to startle everyone present. “Sam will not die before me.” Dean growls harshly. The nobles are silent, each with their own version of fear and awkwardness etched into their eyes.

It is well known that Dean is fiercely protective of his brother, and as much as he cares for the kingdom and its people, Castiel knows he’d let it all burn if it would keep Sam alive.

It is his one weakness, his Achilles heel.

“As for the issue of me having a heir…” Dean starts, changing the subject. “I would prefer this problem be placed on hold for the time being. I have…someone I’m interested in. When I get my answer from them I’ll reopen it for discussion.”

Castiel’s eyes widen. This is news to him. He is somehow…doubtful. Castiel has spent a maximum of a few hours away from his charge since his assignment the morning after Dean’s crowning ceremony. Very few women have been with the King recently, those that do speak to him hold no more than a few moments worth of conversation.

One of the older nobles shakes his head at the King. There is frustration in his eyes. “But sir, you should perhaps consider a lady from one of the neighboring nations. Think of the political advantages, we could remake our old alliances!”

Dean shakes his head. “Whatever alliances I make will not be driven by Kings selling their daughters to me. As far as I’m concerned people are not to be traded. I want to care about the person I marry.”

The nobles all look a little stunned at Dean’s statement. It’s a bold thing for a King to say, but Castiel is proud of Dean for saying it. Alliances born of convenient marriages are not worthy ones in his eyes. And Castiel has always been disgusted by the way Kings treat their daughters like a form of currency.

“Yes, of course my King. I…apologize.”

“It’s fine Zachariah,” Dean says insincerely.

Dean walks out of the meeting with a little more power in his gait. He told the nobles off without bringing himself down to their level. Castiel can’t help but be impressed. He shows exemplarily skill at holding his own and sticking to his morals.

“What do you think Cas?” Dean says suddenly. He looks...unusually pensive. He was confident a moment ago, what happened? The King slows his walk to match Castiel’s pace.  “Do you think I should take a wife for the political benefits?”

The Nagual form inside him growls again, a possessive sound. Jealous. Angry.

But that’s not what Dean needs from him right now, right now he looks unsure and hesitant. Castiel has to remind himself that Dean is new to his role as King. He wasn’t raised surrounded by the noble’s sense of righteousness since birth like other princes. He spent time with Bobby and the knights of the castle. The second he was old enough he was on the road fighting to make the world a better place. What he needs right now is to find a place where he is comfortable in this unfamiliar environment.

 “No.” Castiel just barely keeps the growl out of his voice.

“Why no?”

“Well... I do agree with what you told them. Marriage is a bond of love, I do not think it should be used for political negotiations.” That’s not the only reason, there’s another part of him that wants to keep Dean for himself. He cannot deny that he is selfish for Dean’s time, should he take a wife then Castiel would stray from his attentions.

“But Cas…If it’s just us fighting this war, we are going to lose. I need another country to back us up, I need more troops.”

Castiel sighs, he cannot deny this. The demon army only grows larger by the day and while the Winchester army is strong, they are massively outnumbered. “What about the potential love interest that you mentioned?”

“Oh…um.” Dean looks uncomfortable; his hand rubs at the back of his neck. Castiel is not sure what he expected, but this reaction is so uncharacteristic of Dean. He’s never seen the mild blush that has colored Dean’s cheeks, or the way the King seems to be avoiding his eyes. “It’s just…someone. I don’t think anything will come of it.”

“Anyone I know?”

“No.” The King answers quickly, ending the discussion.

 They walk together into Dean’s bedchamber. Castiel cannot help but try to imagine this person Dean’s so enchanted with. Whoever it is, Castiel will see that they are worthy of the King. He will be sure to pay extra close attention to Dean’s social interactions. It’s only a matter of time before he figures it out, Dean has never been able to keep anything from him for very long.

For now, he will let the matter slide, there are more important tasks at hand.

 “Where are the demons most prominent now?”  Castiel says, changing the topic. He takes a seat on the extravagant couch he slept on a few nights prior. The sleeping arrangements still haven’t quite worked out, although Dean mentioned that they will be clearing out a room near the King for him to sleep.

“Still north, Principalitan troops are keeping them back from their capital for now, but they can’t keep it that way. They’re only holding on because their allies have sent so many soldiers and priests.”

Castiel pictures it for a moment, the demons pressing in on the capital, climbing the walls trying to reach the king. Certainly Winchester is next, the demons take what is closest. At this rate they will achieve world domination within the decade.

“What is your political relationship with them? I am aware most nations have a low opinion of this kingdom, but do you think that they could be open to change?”

Dean shrugs, “I don’t know what _would_ change their opinion of us, but sure, I guess. We haven’t wronged them directly. What do you have in mind?”

“I…” He shouldn’t say anything more, his plan would require contacting other Nagual and getting them involved. But it’s not like this isn’t their problem too. The demons are a threat to everyone on the planet. “I was thinking that I lend a hand with their demon problem. I could get a team together, possibly other Nagual and take out the smaller targets. If I assist enough people in your name they might warm up to allying with this kingdom.”

“You wanna go take out demons? Cas, I know your strong, but demons…they can’t be killed like normal people. They just fly off and possess someone else.”

“Of course, I am aware of that. Dean , I was a priest, killing demons is part of my expertise.”

Dean’s eyes widen, “Wait…you can kill demons?”

Castiel’s brow furrows. “Of course. Well, perhaps killing them is a loose term, more aptly put I can send them back to Hell. It usually takes the average demon a few centuries to climb back out. I’m certain your kingdoms priests know as much as I do.”

Dean’s expression confuses him. The King looks surprised, like this information is new. There’s no way the humans don’t know…

“Do you…not know how to send a demon back to hell.”

Dean shakes his head.

“You’re telling me humans have just been hacking away at demons to stop them?! What kind of idiocy is that?!” Castiel shouts. He can’t help it, the humans have been fighting this war with both hands tied behind their back this whole time. How could they not know? Do they fear magic so much that the simplest incantation sends them hiding beneath their steeples?

Dean looks momentarily frightened by his outburst. Castiel forces his voice to lower and steps slowly towards him. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled. Are you telling me that no one in this kingdom has performed an exorcism? This should be common knowledge among your citizens. Exorcisms are present in many religious texts, I’m certain your church’s have some instruction on them.”

“I…I…” Dean stutters, his hands grip his hair. “We… when the demons first started taking over, my grandfather had any religious texts containing any incantations or magic thrown away or burned. He said the demons fed on it.”

“He was wrong. If you want to fight supernatural beings the most efficient way is with magic. Do other countries follow Winchester’s anti-magic policies?”

Dean sits on the end of his bed, staring glumly at the floor. “I…don’t know. I think so.”  

“Dammit!” This is bad, Castiel had no idea. If they don’t know any exorcisms then anyone possessed by a demon since this crisis began has met their end.  How have they survived this long without knowing? Constantly killing their own while condemning the next poor soul to be possessed. 

“No mission to Principality then.” Castiel stands, moves to the end of Dean’s bed. Slowly he reaches out, puts his hand beneath the King’s chin. Slowly, he guides Dean to look him in the eye.

His King’s eyes are pained, he must’ve came to the same realization. All those lives…needlessly lost. If only they had known, this war might’ve never even begun.

Tomorrow, possession will no longer be a death sentence, Castiel will make sure of it.  “We must begin training everyone in the entire kingdom.  By this time tomorrow, everyone will know how to truly fight a demon.”

 


End file.
